


Held Close to Nature's Heart, or “West Highland Angels”

by Bluethenstaub



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Hiking, M/M, There Is Only One Sleeping Bag, they're living disasters and would not survive as humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluethenstaub/pseuds/Bluethenstaub
Summary: After the world hasn't ended, Aziraphale and Crowley decide that it's time for their long overdue holiday. But did they have to go hiking..?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52
Collections: Good Omens Holiday Exchange 2019





	Held Close to Nature's Heart, or “West Highland Angels”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sonnet23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonnet23/gifts).



> GOHE present for sonnet23

The last time either one of them had been in Glasgow, the Central station hadn't existed yet. Neither had airplanes. Nor taxis from the airport to Glasgow Central. But here they were.

Even Crowley was silently complaining about the driver - he was so slow!- it was still better than taking a horse.

They stood right in the middle of Glasgow Central, carefully watching the signs to find out where their train would depart, when Crowley asked the crucial question.

"Why didn't we just take the taxi to Milngavie?"

Aziraphale blushed. "My travel guide-"

"Said that's how to get there, yes, but would it kill us to have a few more moments of comfort?"

It had all started with Aziraphale taking inventory of his new bookshop after a certain Armageddon hadn't happened.

The bookshop was mostly unchanged, even if it had burned down as Crowley had told him. There were new books, yes. Adam was, after all, only eleven years old, there was no way he'd appreciate used books in the same way Aziraphale did. But if he had to be honest, Aziraphale didn't mind much. They weren't misprinted bibles but children's books, but they were all first editions. One even had a misprint on the title page!

But that was not everything!

Aziraphale had also found travel guides. He was sure, Adam wanted him and Crowley to finally go on a hard-earned holiday together.[1] Deciding where they were going was easy. He just closed his eyes and grabbed one, letting fate decide.

Neither of them had been happy about that. They had to go hiking.

But they thought if humans could do it, so can they.

They had found their train and arrived in Milngavie, completely oblivious as to where to go. Luckily for them, they found another hiker, and assuming they would also walk the West Highland Way, they followed him.

In reality, the other hiker, David, had no idea where to go either. Unlike certain immortal beings, though, he was able to read the signs and had taken a look at a certain map on the Internet before he started his travels. 

"Oh dear, what a beginning," Aziraphale said to himself. "I think I need a break already."

"I already want to go home," Crowley answered.

Aziraphale tutted. "Oh, look. There's the official starting point!" He pointed at a painted obelisk in the middle of a square. He was overwhelmed. Now they would start their journey and for the next six days it was only going to be Crowley, him, and Mother Nature. It was going to be…

"Let's go and get some coffee before we start, alright?" Crowley interrupted his chain of thoughts and pointed to a small coffee shop right next to the staircase leading down to the Way.

"Oh."

"Did you want to start right away? Do you want to walk on an empty stomach?"

"My stomach isn't empty. I had breakfast at the airport in London!"

And yet, he entered the coffee shop without hesitation. 

It was a lovely little shop, the deep brown on the walls resembled the deep brown of a hot chocolate. Aziraphale could see himself sitting here every morning, drinking some tea, watching bright-eyed hikers starting their big trip.

But today he was on the other side, ordering hot cocoa with cream and marshmallows, watching his fellow bright-eyed hikers start their journeys. 

This is what Aziraphale was wearing at the beginning of the trip:

  * One pair of walking boots, brown, completely new 
  * One pair of merino wool socks, Aziraphale's distinctive tartan pattern
  * Sock garters, black
  * One pair of cord pants, brown
  * One pair of underpants, white
  * One pair of long underpants, light blue
  * One undershirt, white
  * One pullover, dark blue
  * One cardigan, mustard
  * One down jacket, brown, completely new
  * One scarf, Aziraphale's distinctive tartan pattern
  * One backpack, properly packed
  * One woolen hat, Aziraphale's distinctive tartan pattern
  * One pocket watch, showing local time and Crowley’s time· 
  * One wallet, filled with money and all necessary papers



Crowley's cocoa was accompanied by a wonderful strawberry cake, while Aziraphale ordered some apple cake and feasted on some of Crowley’s leftovers.

But now, they weren’t able to make any more excuses. They had to leave now or else they would arrive at the camping site in the middle of the night, Crowley insisted. 

Aziraphale was sure this was way over the top. Certainly, they wouldn’t walk _that_ slow.

"One picture with the starting sign?"

"Sure." Aziraphale turned towards an old woman crossing the square. "Young woman, would you be so kind as to take a picture of my friend and me at the obelisk?"

"Oh, you're doing the Way?" She asked back with a heavy accent. Her eyes wandered up to the rainy sky. "You didn't get the best weather for that."

"No, we did not. Now, if you'd be so kind?"

"Of course."

One short camera explanation and a successfully taken picture later, Crowley rehid his phone in the depth of his jacket.

The Way started easily enough. Aziraphale and Crowley just had to walk down some stairs and they were right on it, following the painted white thistle through a small forest. The path was established by the thousands, or maybe millions, of hikers walking before them.

Even the rain didn’t bother them until they left the small forest to their right. To their left was tall, yellow grass like they would see so much more often on their trip, and under their feet were wet planks, preventing them from sinking into the moor and vanishing forever. And from getting wet feet, of course.

The planks got replaced by solid stone ground after a while and the forest vanished. Instead, they found the shores of the first of many lakes on their way: Craigallian Loch. It wasn’t very spectacular, yet, Aziraphale stopped at a little memorial to take the camera out of his backpack and take a picture of the lake. 

With his camera now dangling around the angel’s neck, they left the lake, only to see some tiny houses. Holiday houses? They didn’t know what they were, some of them were hardly bigger than garden huts, but some had a carefully decorated garden. Who knew what people did here. But who cares? Not Crowley and Aziraphale. 

They were more excited about the fact that they’d found a signpost, telling them that they’d already walked 3 ¾ miles! And they only had to walk 8 ¼ miles to Drymen, where they’d find the camping place where they planned to spend the night.

This is what Crowley was wearing at the beginning of the trip:

  * One pair of walking boots, snakeskin pattern
  * One pair of merino wool socks, black
  * One pair of jeans, black and very tight
  * One pair of underpants, white with little ducks on them
  * One t-shirt, black with a red floral print
  * One pullover, black
  * One reflective jacket, orange, well-used
  * One backpack, properly packed
  * One woolen hat, in Aziraphale's distinctive tartan pattern
  * One pair of sunglasses
  * One watch, showing the time in 20 places on the Earth and one place which isn't on this world
  * One wallet, filled with money and all necessary papers



Next, to Crowley’s great despair, they had to follow an asphalted road uphill. The road wasn’t the problem, although he imagined that it would be way nicer to drive it in the Bentley, but uphill? He realized he was not made to walk up. Down was much more his forte.

When he arrived at the gate they had to pass through, Aziraphale was already waiting for him.

“Hello, dear boy,” he said. “Funny to meet you here in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Keep your jokes where I can’t see them,” Crowley grumbled,gladly taking the mug of tea Aziraphale offered him. He had prepared the tea earlier in London and put it into a Thermos to keep it nice and warm.

At least the view is nice, Crowley had to admit, eyeing a snow-capped mountain in front of a clear blue sky. 

Going all the way up had the advantage that one also has to go back down at some point. Crowley was well-versed in sauntering downwards, so now it was Aziraphale who had his troubles. 

He was even almost falling down, face first, at one point, but it was thanks to Crowley’s demonic intervention[2] that he doesn’t.

Crowley, Aziraphale, and Poppy the sheep shared a moment of embarrassed silence, but Crowley and Aziraphale continued on their walk while Poppy started eating again. 

It didn’t take them long to reach flat land again, and after a quick discussion if they should visit the first distillery on their way,[3] they met some small ponies next to a little hut in the middle of nowhere, the Beech Tree Inn. Not really the middle of nowhere. The distillery wasn't that far away.

"Oh, Crowley, look!" Aziraphale stopped in his tracks and reached for Crowley's arm. "We could take a rest here. Maybe get some early lunch!"

"Or we could just ignore it and go on or we won't reach our destination for today!"

Aziraphale ignored him. "Just look at what the signpost says! Doesn't that sound pleasant?"

They both read it.

YOU’VE WALKED ABOOT 7 MILES  
CUM SEE OOR SMILES & HUV A CUP O TEA  
OR TRY OUT OOR PLATTER IT DISNY MATTER  
THERE’S A WARM WELCOME AT THE BEECH TREE

BURGERS’N’CHIPS, STARTERS’N’DIPS  
OR EVEN A SENSUOUS PUD!  
GREAT VALUE FOR MONEY-SIT OOT IF ITS SUNNY  
JUST CUM & ENJOY OOR FOOD

IF THE RAIN STARTS TO PISS-GEE IN THE GARDEN A MISS  
OR MAYBE TRY OOT OUR SHELTER  
IN OR OOT YOU CAN WEAR MUDDY BOOTS  
THE WELCOME YOU’LL GET IS A BELTER

TAKE THE WEIGHT OFF YOUR FEET-HUV SOMETHING TAE EAT  
OR EVEN JUST VISIT OOR LOO  
KIDS CAN FEED THE DUCKS OR PLAY IN THE PARK  
THERE’S PLENTY FOR THEM TO DO

WHEN YOU’RE FULLY REPLETE, & YOU’VE HAD A SEAT  
THINKIN ABOUT YOUR NEXT NIGHT ON THE TILES  
KEEP THAT SMILE OAN YER FACE-FORT BILL IS THE PLACE  
IT’S ONLY ANITHER 87 MILES!!!

"Sounds just properly Scottish to me."

"Sounds very inviting to me."

"We have food with us. Could we eat that? We also have just eaten cake. The next holiday we go on can be culinary, but this isn't." Truth was, Crowley had no intention of taking off his shoes.

"Oh fine. But just so you know, I'll sulk the whole way."

He didn't sulk the whole way, just for a few minutes until he saw the first sheep.

They were average sheep, with some green sprayed on their wool, just like any other sheep you'd see in the Highlands. Aziraphale liked them regardlessly. But they didn't rest, they went on, away from the sheep, through the mud of the streets to the next parts of their way.

On a little muddy road next to a motorway they went by, walking through the rain, unbothered, protected by their hats, a long, long way straight ahead through the landscape, just like the birds would fly.

This is what was in Aziraphale's backpack at the beginning of the trip:

  * One tent
  * One air mattress
  * One travel guide
  * One camera
  * One thermos bottle filled with tea
  * One box of chocolate biscuits
  * One flashlight
  * One mug
  * One of each: knife, fork, spoon
  * One bowl with a lid which can be used as a plate
  * Merino wool socks, Aziraphale's distinctive tartan pattern x 7
  * Underwear, white x 7
  * One pair of cord pants, light brown
  * Long underpants, beige
  * Undershirt x 7, white
  * Two pullovers, dark green, beige
  * Pyjamas, light blue and white stripes
  * Mittens, grey
  * One toiletry kit filled with necessary things
  * Two towels
  * Insect repellent



They realized they were not alone. Now, imagine if they were at home, this fact could prove to be quite a problem, either for them or a potential robber who, for example, tried to acquire one of Aziraphale's books.[4] Given that they were on a hiking trip, this wasn't a bad thing.

Of course, there had already been other hikers on the way before, most of the time passing them, but they hadn't really picked up on them.

The first time it happened was when a man in a kilt passed them.

Aziraphale was instantly excited. Walking the West Highland Way just like a real highlander! How smart!

Crowley, who had actually been a highlander at one point in history, just shuddered at the thought of having to wear a kilt again in this weather and snuggled closer into Aziraphale's scarf. Said scarf had changed wearers earlier when Crowley had started to discreetly complain about the cold weather.[5]

At the end of the path, they had to cross over a bridge to follow a paved road for the next few miles. But before going on, they took a little break at some sandstone cottages along the way, to catch their breath and to get something to drink.

"I love pay-what-you-want boxes," Aziraphale said as he got a bottle of water and paid £10 for it.

"I love pay-what-you-want boxes," Crowley said as he got a bottle of water and paid nothing for it.

Aziraphale tutted disapprovingly. But he had paid enough for both of them, so he let it slide.

The next part of the way was, much to Crowley’s disdain, uphill again. And how uphill it was. In his eyes, it went up and up forever. Even the road to redemption was shorter than the road on this hill. 

But he got rewarded. On top of the hill, far from the end of the road, was the camping place. It was hidden behind some hedges, that way no curious person could peak at the campers without effort. 

Crowley checked his watch. "It's only 6 p.m.," he said and furrowed his brows. Do we really want to spend over twelve hours stuck together in a little tent?"

This was a question which needed no answer. Neither one of them wanted to be stuck in there for so long, especially when it was raining. 

"But there's no other camping place around. And we’re almost to the National Park, we're not allowed to camp in there."

"Well… We could camp right before it. Maybe… hey, where's your stupid book when we need it?"

"In my backpack. But if I open it and get the book, then my clothes will get wet."

" _Aziraphale_."

"Fine!" He pulled the rain cover off his backpack and opened the lid. In uncharacteristically smart thinking, he had put the book on top of everything else. There wasn't even a chance for his clothes to get wet.

Backpack closed again and book in hand, Aziraphale started to read. They were able to camp somewhere behind Drymen, the next village. There was a car park next to a small forest. Maybe there? 

When Aziraphale made an effort to put the book back in his backpack, Crowley stopped him. It was easier if he'd just pocketed it. Who knew when they'd need it again. And did Aziraphale want to take off his backpack every time? No. He was too lazy for that. And what did he have those big pockets on his jacket for? The book fit just right into them, no problem at all. 

Book in the pocket, they went on again.

Meadows to their right.

Meadows to their left.

Eventually, the road started to go slightly down, leading them into a little forest. 

It was almost romantic, if not for the rain and the cold.

Shortly, they debated if they should stay at Mulberry Lodge, a B&B they spotted on the side of the road, but decided against it. They were here to camp, not to stay in other people's houses. 

At the bridge behind the lodge, they stopped again. Their path seemed to lead them down a little staircase next to the bridge, over a stream, and up a grassy hill, but that didn’t seem right? 

Up the hill they went.

But there was no sign of anything on top of it, not the route marker, not even something that looked like a path.

They turned around and went down the hill again.

They checked the book again.

They had been going the right way.

Crowley moaned. He didn’t want to walk up that hill again, but there was no helping it. It had to be done if he didn’t want to walk around it. He liked that idea even less. 

Straight over the hill they went, and, on the other side, down the hill until they met the road again, only to follow it for a few meters until they had to walk through a gate, leading them on a small track again. 

The next mile went uphill, but it ended with the car park they had talked earlier about. Finally, Crowley didn’t have to subdue any more hills. For now..

This is what was in Crowley's backpack at the beginning of the trip:

  * One sleeping bag
  * One air mattress
  * One mobile phone
  * One water bottle, filled with sparkling water
  * One mug
  * One of each: knife, fork, spoon
  * One bowl with a lid which can be used as a plate
  * Merino wool socks, Aziraphale's distinctive tartan pattern x 7
  * Underwear, black x 2, violet-blue-striped x 1, black with little foxes x 1, black with red dots x 1, grey with white butterflies x 1, white with little cacti x 1, light blue with black cats x 1
  * Two pair of jeans, black, way too tight 
  * T-shirts, black x 6, black with flamingo pattern x 1
  * Two pullovers, dark grey, black
  * Pyjamas, black, satin
  * Gloves, black
  * One toiletry kit filled with the necessary things
  * Two towels



There's this thing about tents that they never seem to fit the person and their luggage if the person is taller than a certain size. This size is approximately 120cm. Both Aziraphale and Crowley were quite a bit taller than that, and in Aziraphale's case, a great deal wider than a person that size. This is especially true in cases where a tent has to fit more than one person. A tent for two people is barely enough for a single being and their luggage.

And yet, when the tent was standing, when the bags were inside, and their night spots claimed (left side for Aziraphale, right side for Crowley), there was enough room for them to comfortably sit up and turn around.

This doesn't count as a miracle, though. Due to the fact, that neither one of them had any experience with modern tents and their size problems, they expected enough room. And what happens when two celestial beings imagine enough room in a tent? There is enough room in a tent.

That doesn't even count as a miracle.

Now that the tent was finally standing and their backpacks were safe inside, it was time, Aziraphale thought, to pop the question.

"Crowley, what's for supper?"

Crowley turned to the angel and blinked. "What do you mean 'Crowley, what's for supper?'? I wasn't the one who was supposed to take care of the food. You were supposed to do that."

Aziraphale huffed. "Me? But I thought I was only supposed to bring snacks for the walk."

"What did you bring?"

"... Biscuits."

"Biscuits."

"Yes. With two kinds of chocolate in them." He reached into his backpack and pulled one package with twenty biscuits out of it.

"How do you suppose we survive this whole blessed trip just with one package of biscuits?"

"It's not like we need to eat, silly snake. We won't starve. And I suppose, we can go and buy something in the next village."

"Great. And tonight we dine like beggars on biscuits only."

Aziraphale frowned. "What did you think I was bringing with me? A whole stove and my fridge?"

"A camping cooker and instant noodles."

"Don't be silly, neither one of us wants to live on instant noodles for a whole week."

There was a pause.

Crowley broke the quiet first. "There's plenty of other instant food. Or we could have looked up what other people take on camping trips with them. A mistake on our part, I guess."

Aziraphale nodded. "You're right. Our mistake. We could go back down to the village-"

"Please don't make me walk down and back up that hill again."

"Or we could just stay here and, as you've said it, dine like beggars. We don't need food, after all. And I'm not that hungry if I think about it."

They shared the biscuits like they've shared so many meals before. It wasn't the greatest meal, but it was nice.

After the meal, they sat together in the tent and talked about their eventful day. 

But it wasn't too long until Crowley decided to call it a day and climb into his sleeping bag.

Aziraphale hadn't brought one with him. He didn't sleep, which was why he had argued when Crowley had tried to bring matching bags into the shop. 

Crowley had just shrugged and moved on. No need to argue with Aziraphale if he didn't want to.

Instead, he had taken the one sleeping bag back to the shop where he bought them. Aziraphale’s loss. 

Aziraphale had used the space reserved for a sleeping bag for books instead. He had brought five of them with him on this trip. They weren’t, of course, first editions, but old and worn out paperbacks. There was no problem if those got wet or dirty.

Crowley was on the brink of falling asleep when Aziraphale shook his shoulder.

“Crowley, I’m cold,” he said.

Crowley groaned. “That’s your own fault.”

"Share your sleeping bag with me."

"No. It's for a single person."

"So?"

"Only my arse fits in it. There's no room for you."

"Crowley, _please_."

"What do you expect me to do? Miracle it bigger?"

"No, but-"

"I thought we wanted to do the trip without miracles. If you forgot your sleeping bag, you stay cold.”

“Listen, if we use it as a blanket and cuddle close, you won’t get cold. We’ll, which kind of cutlery is used to describe it? We’ll fork and I’ll hold you warm.”

“ _Spoon_ , Aziraphale, spoon.”

“Is that a yes?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Yes. But if I get cold in any way tonight, I’ll hold you responsible for it, and we won’t share my sleeping bag any other night.”

He wasn’t cold at all that night. It might have been a minor miracle’s fault which made the opened sleeping bag slightly bigger than it was supposed to be, but that would be ridiculous. Aziraphale would never use a miracle for this, especially when they’ve said that this trip was miracle-free. So it must just have been because of Aziraphale’s warm body pressed against Crowley from behind, with his arms around him, and reading his book.[6]

The next morning started with a surprise. When they left the tent, the world around them was white. And cold. Oh, being in the snow in the morning was so annoyingly cold, it was unbelievable.

No wonder Aziraphale had searched for warmth in the night!

They shared the rest of the biscuits and some water for breakfast before they put up the tent, and continued their way through the completely white forest. Even deep under the trees where they had rested, the snow had found its way to get to the ground. 

It wasn’t too long until the forest vanished, and all they could see were the remains of it. Most of it had been cut down ages ago. But at least the view was nice. They weren’t able to see much with the sky all grey around them, but what they saw of the landscape was as beautiful as everything they’ve seen so far on their hike.

Everything was alright until the path divided. Either they could take the high road where they would meet the forest again and climb up all the way to Conic Hill, before going down to the next village, or they could take the low road, a quicker route, through a little village and following a highway for a long time.

Aziraphale voted for taking the high road, Crowley for the low road. When they couldn’t decide and all discussion seemed pointless, they tossed a coin.

Crowley won and they took the lower road.

If he had to be honest, Aziraphale was quite okay with that. As they got lower, the snow started to vanish and turn into the wetness of rain. If they had taken the higher route, there would have only been more snow, up to a point where Crowley would have misstepped and would have fallen face-first into a meter deep snow hill.

When they entered the village, they both found the most important places right away: a café and the village shop. They checked the shop first, but it had nothing big, only snacks. They could take those with them on their trip, but they didn’t want to. They wanted some bread with butter at least.

They didn’t get bread in the cafe next door, but scones and cocoa. With cream and little marshmallows on top.

It gave back all the warmth on the inside they had missed in the last hours.

But they couldn’t stay there forever. Well, they could if they really wanted to, but that would require at least three miracles, and they wanted to go on with their trip. They had a goal to reach, they needed to get to their next camping spot near the loch which would keep their company for the next few days.

On a square near the shop, some of their fellow hikers were taking pictures with a statue of an old man. 

“Who’s supposed to be that?”

Aziraphale checked the guide. “Tom Weir.”

“Who?” 

“You know the series, _Weir’s Way_?”

“Oh! I loved that one!”

“Do you want a picture with the statue?”

“No, what for?”

Aziraphale shrugged and they followed the asphalted road full of renewed energy and motivation.

It wasn’t even half a mile later when the motivation died abruptly. They had to climb up a hill again. And what a hill it was!

If a little child had drawn a mountain, a simple green triangle in the ground, it would look just like this hill, Crowley tried to describe it later. Of course, this wasn’t exactly the case, but to Crowley it felt like that.

The view was fantastic. They couldn't see the whole lake, no, it was too long, but they could see the other side without any problems. If it wasn't for the mountains, they could have seen the whole way over to America. Or Greenland, at least, thought Aziraphale.

And yet, his eyes wandered over to Crowley, sitting on a stone, completely out of breath. It was hard for a being which doesn't need to breathe to be out of breath. Oh, poor Crowley. And from what he had read in the guide, it would get much worse for him. It was a long distance trail in the Highlands, after all. They might have been able to dodge the first mountain on their way but that wasn't possible for the others.

The one called Devil's Staircase sounded especially gruesome. 

And if he was being honest… one day hiking was more than enough for both of them.

"My dear," Aziraphale said softly. "I've got an idea. What if we take one last picture of us together here on this hill, and we call it a day? We'll stop this whole experience and, I don't know, we’ll take a boat to the other side of the lake and rent a car there. I think driving through Scotland and camping at the end of the day sounds nice too, don't you think?"

Crowley looked as if he wanted to kiss Aziraphale right there and then. "Angel, this is the best idea I've heard since you started planning this trip. But do you realize, we still have to get off this hill?"

"Ah. I think since I made you walk all the way up here, it's only fair that I have to walk down, too.” He smiled at Crowley. “And if I should fall… you're there to catch me."

* * *

1 This was not true. All these travel guides had been in Aziraphale's possession before. He just had no use to them, so he had hidden them in the back of a shelf and forgotten about them. For some reason people loved to leave them lying around, in which case he would remember his collection, shove the newest travel guide into the shelf, and forget about it immediately.[↑]

2 Not a miracle. Crowley walking slightly behind Aziraphale was able to grab the handle of the angel's backpack reflexively and prevent the worst.[↑]

3 "No, Aziraphale." "But-" "No."[↑]

4 Even legally this was a problem.[↑]

5 He had started sniffing.[↑]

6 _Maurice_ by E. M. Forster.[↑]

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly can't resist using boxes in fanfics... I really had to stop myself from putting the lists in boxes, too


End file.
